Abruptly she desisted, recoiled, and turned and fled up-stairs. “My wife. A doubt as to your dinner to-morrow would make you miserable to-night. Ladies with weapon’s on ’em. He wore a French military undress of the period, with high jack-boots, and a laced hat; and, though his attire indicated no particular rank, he had completely the air of a person of distinction. Her head was downcast as she studied the museum-like exhibits of various dusts on the resilient tile flooring. Even so much allusion as this to that family shadow, she felt, was an immense recognition of her ripening years. “It is not possible,” he exclaimed.
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